


Hot Chocolate

by fuzzyfying



Series: December Fanfiction Challenge [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Stiles Stilinski, Christmas, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Seattle, Winter, jennie fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzyfying/pseuds/fuzzyfying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dec 10: Hot Chocolate</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Chocolate

When Derek decided to move up into the Northwest, he didn’t exactly think it through. Because of that, right now he was standing in the rain looking up at his new apartment complex as he slowly (pretty damn quickly, actually) got drenched.

Derek heaved a sigh. Of course Seattle would be like this. Trudging up the stairs, he dropped down his single bag by the doorway before falling into the small armchair by the small TV. Derek didn’t like it all. Maybe it was a bad idea to move after all; after all, Derek hated the smell of _unfamilia_ r. But Derek couldn’t return to Beacon Hills. The last time he had returned, he found out that crazy Uncle Peter had killed Laura and then Derek had to kill crazy Uncle Peter and that was just too many bad memories in one town for him, for anyone really.

Anyhow, it wasn’t worth pondering over now. It had just been time for a change. New York had grown on him but he certainly hadn’t loved it. And without Laura tying him there, he had been free to go anywhere he wanted. Why he chose Seattle, he didn’t know. But it was definitely a change from both Beacon Hills and New York. _Yeah_ , Derek thinks as he closes his eyes, _this is what I need_.

 

-

 

Derek woke up feeling cramped up with creaking knees and a growing desire to go for a run, remembering that the full moon was in only a few days. So Derek did. Or he tried. He shouldn’t have expected good weather, being in Seattle in the middle of October, but apparently he had hoped. Despite the ridiculous number of trails in the Evergreen State, they were impossible to run if it was raining.

Instead, Derek settled for a cup of coffee, hoping that it might help him focus a bit more on unpacking and less on the need to run. So Derek pulled out the first pair of pants from his bag and tugged a hoodie over his head as he stepped out, pulling the hood up over his face. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he headed over the nearest cafe. He was dreading this day already.

 

-

 

Stiles blinked his eyes sleepily as he huddled into his jacket a little bit more. He would give anything to be back in bed, preferably asleep, but “in bed” was the really the gist of it. He loved working at Starbucks: everyone knew there were perks; the free drinks, the employee discounts, _the health insurance_. And Stiles can’t even start on how great it is to have Allison as a manager (she lets him get away with anything. Well almost anything). All of it was great. However, the 8AM shifts in the morning? Not so much.

Sure, Stiles knew that he was _supposed_ to get up before 8 if he had morning classes at UW, except he didn’t. He was stuck making cranky old men their morning americanos (which he didn’t understand all, they were like watered down coffee which is revolting) and skinny white girls their tall, non-fat, soy mocha latte with a hint of chocolate and a half pump of cinnamon and an inch of room (what even _is_ that? Because it sounds _disgusting_. Also, what’s going on in the inch and what the hell is _half_  a pump? Stiles will never understand).

So when the little bell above the door rang signaling a new customer, Stiles didn’t even bother looking up as his hand twitched towards the stack of tall cups.

“Just a triple espresso.”

On the other hand, the gruff (very sexy) voice definitely got his attention as Stiles’ snapped up to look at the first customer of the day.

Maybe it was the guy’s sad hazel eyes or the angry eyebrows or the five-day old scruff covering his face and neck, but Stiles felt compelled to start a conversation.

“Bad morning? Well, I guess it’s like barely morning since I’ve been up since forever. Waking up early kind of sucks and I’m also feeling kind of hungover but don’t tell my manager because she would literally kick my ass. And she’s done it before. Anyways, all my mornings are pretty bad but you seem like you could get a nice drink. Don’t get such an angry drink when you already look so angry. Actually, you know what, I’ll just make you both my favorite drink and the triple espresso and you can take both and decide. And, just so you know since I don’t want to surprise you with a surprise drink it’s just a hot chocolate...and. Yeah.”

Angry Eyebrows slowly transformed into Slightly Confused And Very Perplexed Eyebrows.

Stiles was gaping like a fish.

This was not good.

Abort mission?

Stiles hands Eyebrows his drinks, “On the house, man, you look like you need it.”

Stiles hopes that Eyebrows doesn’t miss his name and number on the side of one of the cups. He hopes that Eyebrows is gay.

Stiles awkwardly waves as the guys just turns his back and leaves just as abruptly as he arrived, yet surprisingly taking both cups.

Stiles grimaces. What a morning.

 

-

 

Derek had no idea what was going on.

There was this loud-mouthed teenager (?) that wouldn’t shut up working the counter. If this was what it was like in every single coffee shop he was going to (that was theoretically impossible, there is no way there are that many people who are like that kid), then he might have to reconsider his move to Seattle.

Somehow, Derek had ended up leaving with both of the cups that the kid had shoved at him. He eyed both of them warily. Turning one of the cups around and notices some numbers of letters.

_What the fuck is a Stiles?_

Throughout the whole encounter with the...the _Stiles_ , Derek was completely swept away (he had forgotten to pay. Or had the guy told him not to? Derek’s not even sure anymore). Not because the guy was attractive, because he was (those sinful hands), but because Derek was never used to people talking to him, especially in huge verbal paragraphs. In fact, Derek was always a quiet kid and apparently his resting bitch face gave him a reputation of being unapproachable.

Whatever. Stiles obviously didn’t mind.

Derek really shouldn’t be thinking so fondly of this stranger. Just because Derek was packless didn’t mean he isn’t still a strong, independent, young wolf.

Still, Derek took an experimental sip from the hot chocolate and was hit with the taste of... _Christmas_?

Of course Stiles would put cinnamon in his hot chocolate. Of course Stiles would be the type of person to have this as his favorite drink. Derek goes back to drinking his triple espresso and tries to ignore how bitter it tastes in comparison to the hot chocolate Stiles had made him.

Derek sits at his kitchen table fiddling with the cup of hot chocolate, wondering if he should finish it. He tries to forget about the boy he knew nothing about but still had spoke to him, about the boy who was his first encounter in Seattle; about Stiles. _He doesn’t even know my name_ , Derek thinks.

Derek finishes the hot chocolate.

 

-

 

After five days, Stiles has given up hope that Eyebrows would come back and decides to keep the whole situation unmentioned. So what if he looks up at the ringing door too expectantly? Allison will never know because Stiles will keep the whole encounter with Eyebrows to himself, even if he has to bite down on his tongue so much that he can barely feel his tongue.

The doorbell rings again and Stiles tries to resist the urge to look up.

Then again, he never really did have any control.

 

-

 

“I’d like a hot chocolate with cinnamon...and maybe... a date?” Derek winced.

Stiles raises his eyebrows but his lips are curving up into a smile. “You don’t know anything about me though. And I know nothing about you.”

“Derek.”

“Huh?”

“That’s my name. You should write it on the cup? And maybe my number on a piece of paper?” By now Derek was mumbling. He had no idea what he was doing. This was uncharted territory.

Stiles laughs. “Well, first dates are always for the awkward getting-to-know-each questions, am I right? Just text my number. Oh jeez, I just assumed that you still had the cup if you don’t I guess you can just give me your number? And where do you wanna go get dinner. Oh my god I just assumed again I really need to st-”.

“How about tonight, I’ll pick you up around 6 and I’ll paying.”

Stiles grins, “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

Derek blushes and gets the hell out of there. Drink completely forgotten. But it didn’t matter. He had a date to get ready for. 


End file.
